A Time to Heal
by DeniseV
Summary: A follow up to my story The Haunted Present. Colby and Megan's reunion outside the Eppes home was a just the beginning of Colby Granger's welcome home from the hospital. The goings on inside the house that night.


Colby Granger finally eased out of the healing embrace of his friend and former colleague, Megan Reeves. It had felt so good, overwhelming, really, to at first hear her and then see her at the doorway of Charlie Eppes' house. But it had been the warm hug, enveloping him in concern and love that had done him in. He'd finally been released from the hospital, after all those days spent recuperating, once he'd finally, truly woken after what from all accounts had been a very worrying initial three days, at least for his friends and family. He didn't remember any of the conversation he'd had with David before help arrived, which told him plenty about how injured he'd been. This hospital stay had been less than pleasant, aside from the pain and the disorientation that a serious head injury can bring. One contribution to that unpleasantness a surprise, short visit from his mother. She had never looked kindly on his chosen field of work, and being summoned to Los Angeles when he'd been unconscious from a brutal attack hadn't left her in much better spirits, even once it had been clear that he would recover fully. His own bad demeanor in the hospital had probably led to her rushed return to Idaho. It was really these people, people like Megan and Don and David and all of the rest who were waiting for him inside who were his real family now. These were the people who understood him, who accepted him, even after what had happened to their relationships after his undercover work as a 'spy' for the Chinese had been found out. These were the people who realized the importance of his commitment to his job, in spite of its inherent dangers. They 'got it', something he was sure his mother would never do. He still loved his Idaho family, he always would, but it was his L.A. family who truly made all of the difference in his life now.

And this very special East Coast family member.

"I guess we should go join the party," Megan said as she put her arm around her friend's back and walked the few steps side-by-side with him to the porch landing.

"It's good to see you," Colby said softly, finally able to muster words, though they paled in comparison to the emotion of the reunion. Megan rubbed his back in silent reply.

"Hey, Colby," Charlie said as he welcomed Granger into the house.

"Charlie," he started as he reached out for a handshake. Charlie Eppes took the offered hand but rather than shake hands, he pulled Colby in gently for a welcoming hug instead.

"I'm so glad you're okay," the youngest Eppes said as he stepped back.

"Thanks. And thanks for having me." Though his boss had told him that he'd be staying at 'my dad's', Granger knew that Charlie owned the beautiful Craftsman home now and it was just as much he as it was Alan who was opening his home and hearth to him.

"We wouldn't have it any other way." Colby smiled and put his head down. He wasn't really used to such attention; accepting everyone's good wishes tonight seemed a daunting task.

"Hi, Colby," Amita said. She was next in line. "Thank God you're okay."

"Thanks, Amita." Colby smiled and said, "Are you sure you want to do this? Three, sometimes four of us at one time?"

"I can handle it," she returned with a smile. She reached up on tip-toes and gave Colby a brotherly peck on the cheek.

"What say we consider the hugging and the kissing of this man a done deal and sit down to eat?" Alan Eppes asked as he took his turn with the hugging, giving Granger a fatherly embrace.

"Sounds good to me," Colby agreed.

"I didn't want to kiss him, anyway," Agent Ian Edgerton deadpanned. The entire living room, filled with friends, filled with family, burst into laughter. And Alan's suggestion was ignored as each person took their turn giving Colby Granger a warm welcome home.

"You know, Granger, Eppes here might have to start making you wear a helmet when you go out," Lieutenant Gary Walker kidded. He followed the joke with a long swig of his beer.

"I don't know, Gary. I thought his head was harder than that," Don chimed in.

"It's hard all right. I can vouch for that," David added, shaking his head as he sent a big, grateful smile his best friend's way.

"Hey, man. Since when was it nice to beat up on the convalescent?" Colby asked. The dinner conversation had been lively, ranging from a brief discussion of the capture of their suspect to whether the Lakers would make the playoffs, to why the newest member of their team, Nikki Betancourt, wasn't with them. Somehow, and to Granger's light-hearted dismay, the topic had now turned to that very special part of the evening: pick on Colby time.

"I would say that everyone sitting before you is just happy to have you here as a target," Larry Fleinhardt said. The physics professor from Cal Sci sat next to Megan, who reached over and rubbed his back warmly at the comment.

"I'm happy to still be here, Larry," Colby admitted a little more seriously.

"Well, I think Lt. Walker's idea was right," Liz Warner noted.

"Or maybe we can get you fitted with a protective bubble," Alan suggested.

"Or maybe one of those personal shields that the Ancients made on 'Stargate-Atlantis', like the one Rodney activated but couldn't turn off early in season one." Silence greeted the geek-like ramble from Warner. "What?" she asked. Everyone stared at her. "I like sci-fi," she defended. "So sue me," she added.

Ian was the first to break the shocked silence. "Tell us more about this fascinating personal shield, Liz."

"Oh, shut up." Laughter reverberated throughout the Eppes house.

"Seriously, Granger, how are you doing?" Ian asked.

"Before you answer that, Colby, let me ask around. Coffee, tea anyone?" Yes answers on both sent Alan, Charlie and Amita into the kitchen with the remnants of dinner: dishes, empty glasses, leftovers. It was impossible for anyone not to notice how much food remained on Granger's plate; it gave a hint about how the recovering agent was feeling.

"Better. I admit that this has been hard. I'll be fine," he added quickly. Again, more information was provided on how Colby was feeling based on what he didn't say rather than from what he did.

David Sinclair and Don Eppes let Colby's answer stand, even though they could both tell that their friend was losing steam. They doubted that Ian Edgerton believed what he'd been told, either. But just as surely as they could see that, they could also tell that Granger was enjoying the gathering. Good friends. Good times. Being alive. This time spent with this group was a healing balm against which no medicine could compare.

The guests stepped away from the dining table, taking advantage of the warmth of the Eppes home. They gathered into smaller groups as they waited for the coffee and the tea and the dessert to come out. Don made sure Colby was comfortable in the living room. He kneeled down next to his agent.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," was Colby's tired reply.

"You're not sounding very convincing, pal."

"I am tired, but I'm okay. Really." In hopes of changing the subject, Colby asked, "How's Robin?"

"She's good. She's out of town. She came to the hospital when she heard what happened."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She cares about you. She thinks you're a lot alike," Don added.

"That's nice. And I'll take it as a compliment that she thinks we're alike."

"I know she meant it that way," Don replied with a smile. He watched as Colby seemed to drift a little, his eyes taking in all of the people who had come to be with him on his first night out of the hospital. Even though Don worried that this might all be too much for the healing agent, he also knew it was exactly what Colby needed. But that didn't preclude doing what needed to be done.

"All right. David's getting your meds for you," Don said softly so that he wasn't overheard.

"Is it that time already?"

"Afraid so. But you won't start feeling it for a while."

"Hey," David said as he sat down on the sofa next to his best friend. "Here," he continued, handing the two pills to Colby. Granger took them without comment or fanfare, except for the silent alarms that both David and Don showed on their faces

"Stop." Colby said it louder than he'd intended. His friends all stopped their conversations and looked his way. "Sorry," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked at his two worried colleagues and said, "I'm okay. And I'll be sleeping soon enough. Go have fun."

"You're sure?" David asked.

An exasperated sigh preceded Colby's response. "Yes, I'm sure." Granger looked around, sensing the worry and concern from his friends. "Looks like I ruined the party," he added.

"You give yourself too much credit," Ian Edgerton offered as he took the seat opposite Colby. Don and David left the two men to their chat.

"Is that so?" Granger asked with a wry grin. He admired Edgerton so much, even after he'd been held by the F.B.I. tracker while visiting the prison not that long ago. Edgerton's sacrifices in doing the job that he did - and sometimes resorting to desperate measures in order to do it - reminded Colby of his own difficult time as a spy. They shared experiences that few in the room could truly understand.

"It is." Ian grinned as he said it. "Bit of an inflated ego there, Granger." They made eye contact with each other, knowing that what Edgerton had just said was as far from the truth as it could be. Colby Granger was sure of his place on his team, after quite a few bumps along the way, and definitely confident in his abilities as an F.B.I. agent. But as opposed to those who truly did have a higher opinion of themselves and their worth – and not one of the F.B.I. men in the room hadn't met an agent who had this unfortunate flaw in their character – Colby was far more reserved, very much a team player, and not one to ever draw attention to his actions.

Colby nodded at the joke. Ian continued, "Sounds like this one was a near miss."

"Yeah, I guess it was." Ian watched as Colby's energy waned, even with the simple conversation.

"Maybe you should hit the hay."

"No, I'm fine. I've been laying down for most of two weeks. I'm sick of it," Granger said, not needing to say how much he'd hated his hospital stay this time; it was written all over him, from his face to his body language.

"It's a dangerous thing, head injuries. You need to listen to your doctors." Ian nodded his head back towards Alan, Don and Charlie, who seemed huddled together, most assuredly discussing their houseguest. "You need to listen to your friends."

Colby leaned forward; a slight grimace showed that the movement had aggravated his head injury. "I. . .I might not. . .um. . .I don't want to offend them. Charlie and Alan. And Don. It's real nice that they offered to take me in. . ." Edgerton interrupted his friend. They had several things in common, as it turned out, not the least of which was their shared talent with firearms. Edgerton might have a leg up on tracking a target, but once that target was acquired, there was very little difference between the two when it came to connecting that target with a bullet. Ian had this target today easily in his scope, his ammunition words rather than lead.

"Look, Granger. All these people want right now, the most important thing to them in their worlds, is to see you get better. I know you're used to going it alone in these things, I'm the same way. But just like you reached out to me after that prison thing, and I accepted your offer of friendship and a couch for the night, you need to accept their help."

"Ian, it feels. . .I don't know, this isn't the right word, but it feels. . .smothering."

"That's just because there's so many people here. It'll be fine." Edgerton leaned in closer. "Colby," he said, a rare use of the agent's first name for this rare breed of F.B.I. man, "relax. Really. Rest up, enjoy the time off."

"I've never been good at that, unless I had a fishing rod in my hand."

"Yeah, well, I can attest to the fact that a little down time is good for the soul." Ian leaned back in his seat, an indication that his healing friend should do the same, which he did.

"Tha's easier said th'n done," Colby replied, a slight slur now evident. Edgerton had watched earlier as Sinclair brought the pills to Granger, and then watched as Granger took them without complaint.

Ian put his hand on Colby's knee and said with a twinkle in his eye, "It's good to try new things." He patted the knee and said, "I've got to get on the road." Granger made to stand. "Don't even think about it," he warned his friend, who'd made to do the same. He offered his hand and Colby shook it. "I'll be back in town in a week, and I'll be hanging here in L.A. for a while. If you're still feeling. . .'smothered'. . ." Granger's eyes grew wide, realizing upon hearing it that he probably had used the wrong word to describe how he was feeling. "Don't worry," Ian said. "That's between you and me. But if you need a break from all this Eppes goodness, you know how to reach me."

"Thanks, Ian."

"Anytime, Granger." Ian walked over to Don and shook his hand. He received more handshakes and hugs as he made his way to the door. He made one last wave toward Colby, who waved back, and then he was out the door. David walked over to his friend and took Ian's place in the chair.

"The party's breaking up. You ready to call it a night?" he asked his partner.

"I think I am. Can we wait 'til everybody leaves? I think I may need help getting up."

"Sure." That was exactly how David had planned it. He had already talked to Megan, who agreed to usher everyone out with a casual goodnight. Gary Walker, Larry Fleinhardt, Liz Warner and Megan all headed for the door.

"Behave, Granger," Gary said as he opened the door and was the first of the group to leave. Before Colby could respond, Liz said her goodnight, as did Larry. Megan stopped at the door and waved.

"I'm gonna come by tomorrow. I'll bring lunch. Get a good night's sleep."

"Thanks, Megan. Say goodnight to everyone for me." From outside he heard everyone call, not quite in unison, 'Goodnight'. Megan smiled and Colby smiled back, and then she left, pulling the door closed behind her.

Charlie walked over. "Amita's bringing up a glass of water. It'll be on the table next to your bed." Colby understood that as code for 'David's going to help you up now while she's gone'.

"Guess 'm ready," he said. David went to his friend's side and helped him to stand. Colby wasn't surprised to feel a disorienting pressure in his head when he stood. He'd kind of gotten used to it, but not really. Right after the pressure was the pounding ache that had become all too familiar. He leaned into his partner and groaned. "Maybe I waited too long," he said.

"We'll take it slow. You should have said something."

"I didn't want. . ." Colby started, but knew he didn't have to finish.

"I know," David replied.

"You okay?" Don asked.

"He's exhausted. Everything's fine," David added.

"It's the first room on the right at the top of the stairs," Alan said helpfully.

"Thanks," David answered for his best friend. He helped Colby to the staircase and they headed up together.

"Is he okay?" Alan asked Don.

"You know Colby." Three simple words that said everything. Alan shook his head; his eldest son really could say the damnedest things, not realizing how very similar to Colby Granger he was in this regard.

"Yes, well, there seems to be a lot of that going around," Alan retorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Don asked.

"He means that you're just as stubborn as Colby when you're sick or injured," Charlie commented as he returned from the kitchen. Amita came down the stairs just in time to hear the last part of the conversation.

"I doubt it," Don challenged. Both his father and his brother let out simultaneous, harmonic huffs. "I'm not," Don added defensively. "Amita," he pleaded, looking for someone to back him up, "help me out here."

"I'm not getting in the middle of this," she said. "Besides, I know how stubborn Charlie is. I'd say the chances are high that that trait runs in the family."

Colby and David could hear the easy banter downstairs. "Sounds like you're no longer the topic of discussion," David kidded his friend. They had already stopped at the bathroom and Colby was now changed into a t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

"Yeah. Don's got a lotta nerve talkin' 'bout stubborn," Colby opined lazily.

"Uh-huh," David said as he stared disbelieving at his partner. "I don't know which of you is worse."

"Like you're not," Colby shot back quickly.

"Never said I wasn't. I guess it's a good trait for an agent most of the time," David justified. He watched as his friend stood at the bed. Colby seemed almost too tired to even lie down. The healing man rubbed his forehead and then placed his hand over the soon-to-be removed stitches above his ear. "You should lay down and go to bed," Sinclair suggested.

"I know," Granger answered, looking down. He raised his head and looked at his best friend. "I don't think I ever thanked you for what you did that day." Colby blinked weary eyes, but forced himself to continue. "I don't think I'd still be here. . .from what the doctor and Don have said." His partner had been, not surprisingly, mute on the subject. He blinked some more, his eyes turning glassy, from the drugs and from tears that insisted on embarrassing him in front of the most important person in his life. "I'm such a wuss," he said with an emotion-filled laugh.

"You're not," David said as he stepped up and hugged his best friend. Colby put his arms around his friend, tears falling for the second time that night. "You're alive, and I would make the same call every time if it came to that." They held each other, but David finally pulled away and asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah, just really tired. And really grateful."

"Me, too, partner. Now get in that bed," David said, trying to lighten the moment.

"Yes, sir," Colby said, playing along. He eased his head onto the pillow and sighed, but got out a 'g'night' as though the effort was nearly too much in his exhausted state.

"Goodnight, partner," David said as he backed out of the room and turned off the light. He left the door open, knowing that he wouldn't be the last person to check in on his friend this night.

The End.


End file.
